Baby Steps
by sykilik101
Summary: A campfire is Ash's only companion as he finds himself unable to sleep. He can't stop thinking about her, their new relationship, and what exactly he's supposed to do. OneShot AAML


**I know I said I was done with fanfics, and while that's still pretty much true, I've decided to give it another go for a bit. Considering this story was already mostly fleshed out anyway, I figured I would just finished it up. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Pokémon or anything associated it, nor do I intend to make any money off of this writing.

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><p>Baby Steps<p>

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><p><em>They say if two people fight, they really care about each other.<em>

In a brief moment of affectionate teasing, the Nurse Joy of Vermillion City had begun a trend that would follow Ash Ketchum for years to come. The boy had lost count of the jests and nudges regarding the romantic status of himself and his favorite redhead. Friends from nearly every region he'd visited on his journey, his own travelling companions, his family; even Team Rocket seemed to enjoy prodding the notion. It was as if the world felt certain he and Misty would end up as an item someday, or at the very least, that they had feelings for each other.

Who knew they'd actually be right in the end?

This manner of contemplation busied Ash's mind, its precedence now higher than sleep. Submerged by the ocean of stars above and surrounded by an army of trees, his sole companion was the fire crackling and popping before him. An eroded log collapsed into the ashes, tossing sparks into the air. Ash followed them with his eyes, watching as they fizzled out into nothingness. His gaze remained skyward, the stars dimmed by the light and smoke of the campfire.

The choice to remain awake was not his own. He'd slipped into his sleeping bag when the time for slumber called, but rest would not come to him. The day's events replayed in his mind, endlessly cycling through the scenes that had taken place only hours before. In the end, he felt trying to sleep with such an occupied mind would be a wasted effort, opting to humor his plagued thoughts while waiting for his body to exhaust itself.

He turned his attention, scattered as it was, to the girl hiding behind the embers. His eyes warmed at the docile expression on her face. It was not the first time he had taken notice of her sleeping form, nor would it be the last, he felt. The sight of a carefree and peaceful Misty did wonders on him, slowing his mind down and filling him with a feeling he couldn't compare with anything else. A breeze drifted by, and Ash grinned as Misty curled deeper into her sleeping bag, her face scrunching up before relaxing once more.

For reasons he couldn't explain at the moment, he removed his cap, pulling from inside it a pink cloth. He recalled the evening Misty had given it to him, making his heart shiver in a manner he hadn't felt those many years ago. The handkerchief had been the key to a new world, and for a sparse few seconds, they had entered it together. Something bigger than both of them had taken place, and words which should have been said long ago were meant to be spoken, but an interruption from Brock destroyed the moment.

Since then, that connection lingered inside him, whispering, prodding. It took ages for him to realize the voice was related to Misty, and even longer to hear what it was telling him. When it did, it did in a big way. His face flared, his chest jittered about like crazed Butterfree, and his reflection depicted a fool with the silliest grin conceivable. The knots in his brain had come undone, and his heart felt large enough to hold his entire Pokémon collection a million times over.

He had to see her. It had been a week since he made that decision, and three days since he'd arrived in Cerulean City. Two days ago, he had been standing before the Cerulean Gym, wrapping his best friend in an embrace he refused to end for as long as he could, watching her don a blush he was sure he shared. One day since she had agreed to join the group once more, and somewhere above a few hours since they had confessed to one another.

The moment, he felt, had been perfect. He'd never before taken notice of how moonlight brought out the natural beauty of things, but he was more than grateful that the sight of Misty's shocked expression, bathed in the soft glow, was the first he experienced of it. Strands of her hair floated along a breeze, her mouth parted as she stood motionless; undoubtedly comprehending the words Ash had spoken. It had taken an awkward minute for her to recollect her thoughts, and when her lips slowly curved upwards, Ash knew what her response would be.

Perhaps it was the post-confession buzz that kept him awake, he mused. From the moment he allowed a piece of her heart into his own, it had refused to calm down, like a toy fitted with an overcharged battery. His body was on overdrive, and he loved it.

But what now? He was certainly no expert on love or relationships. He knew enough to know that when two people are dating, they hold hands, and hug a lot, and kiss...his face went pink at the notion, his stomach doing a little flip that made his body shudder. He pictured his face close to hers, her eyes closed, their lips less than inch apart...the pink turned to red as he shook his head, too embarrassed even by the idea to continue that train of thought.

He stared at the handkerchief, hoping it would give him a clue. In the moments of receiving it, he was sure that both Misty and himself must have felt the same thing. Even though he didn't know what he felt, Misty must have known. As romantic as she liked to be, he was positive that she was aware of her emotions. And maybe, in a way, this was her confession, wordless but carrying with it a sense of knowing that even if he never realized his feelings, he'd never forget that she expressed hers.

But Ash grimaced, his grip on the cloth tightening. How long ago had it been since that day? Years? For Misty to have said yes to him, she must have spent all that time holding onto those feelings, hoping for a chance to be with him, worrying that he might not even feel the same way. In comparison, he'd only been dealing with these feelings for a week, and even that was more than he could handle.

How much stronger were her feelings than his? How much more did she expect of their relationship than he? He couldn't say, but he compared his confession to hers. She'd presented him with a gift, a promise that no matter what happened, a part of her would always be with him, as long as he chose to hold on to it. All he could offer was his words. Had she wanted more? Was his confession enough?

Hearing movement from over the fire, he watched Misty turn over in her sleep once more. Her new position exposed her bare shoulder, and she shuddered as a cool gust chilled her. Returning the handkerchief to its former hiding spot, Ash made his way to her sleeping bag. Kneeling before her, he eyed the exposed flesh. He felt compelled, for no discernable reason whatsoever, to remain in his position, content with the sight before him. He placed a shaky hand on the naked skin, reveling in the soft and smooth texture.

_How would it feel to kiss it?_

His body froze, his grip subconsciously tightening. _Where did that come from?_ His thumb ran across her shoulder mindlessly, deriving a unique pleasure from the sensation. His breathing grew shallow, a mild fear surging through him as he suddenly became acutely aware of the position he was in. He jerked back, almost as if he'd touched the fire behind him.

The sudden movement caused Misty to shift, and Ash held his breath as the girl steadily rose her head from her pillow.

"Ash, is something wrong?"

His voice was lost to him for a moment before clearing his throat to reclaim it. "Don't worry, everything's fine."

With his vision limited to the light from the fire, he couldn't tell if her eyes were narrowed out of irritation or drowsiness. "Then why did you wake me up?"

"I didn't mean to, really," he replied sheepishly.

She glared at him, not uttering a word for several moments before closing her eyes with a sigh, slumping back into her sleeping back.

Ash sat there confused, surprised that Misty hadn't verbally bitten his head off at the least. Normally she'd have run him down like a vicious animal before sending him to dreamland the hard way. Regaining his composure, he made his way back to his former seat, refocusing his attention on the fire. For several minutes he sat there, listening to the pops and cracks of the flames.

"Ash, can you sleep?"

The voice was barely audible over the campfire. He glanced around it to see Misty staring back at him, still tucked away in her sleeping bag. She seemed awake now, and didn't appear to be returning to slumber soon.

"Not really. Just sort of thinking."

She observed him for a moment, soundlessly, before making her way out of her sleeping bag, moving to sit beside him. "About what?"

The sudden change in proximity warmed his cheeks, with the campfire taking no credit for it. "Uh…about us."

"O-oh," Misty whispered, clasping her hands together.

Seconds felt like hours as silence pervaded the air around them, leaving the pair to their own devices. Ash could no longer keep his thoughts together, what with his newly-acquired girlfriend sitting inches from him. He felt he should say something, but words escaped him. He knew from the fact she hadn't merely told him to go back to sleep like her normal personality would suggest that she was at the very least trying to create some semblance of a caring partner. He felt he should return the gesture, but he wasn't sure how.

He glanced sideways, surprised to find Misty's gaze meeting his. Their eyes darted away immediately, nerves jittering about. He felt silly. Days ago, he didn't feel this nervous around her. She was still his friend, and he shouldn't act like anything was different. All that changed was that he called her his girlfriend, right? Asking himself why it mattered so much, he built up enough courage to move his hand behind her, planting it on her shoulder.

She stiffened for a moment before her shoulders returned to their normal position. Hoping that progress was being made, he urged himself to look at her. "Is this alright?"

Her eyes were shaking, but she nodded. "Y-yeah."

Her voice wavered, her hands shivering as her eyes avoided his. Hating to see her in such a state, he eased his hand off her shoulder, opting to touch her elbow closest to him. The soft contact seemed to calm her down. "Sorry about that."

"No, no, it's fine, don't worry about it," she assured him. "Just sort of shy, I guess." She averted her eyes towards the trees, using one of her hands to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

Further confusion clouded his mind. He never knew Misty to be this timid around him. She knew to be aggressive when his ego inflated, and always helped him stay excited when his spirits may have fallen. But she always did so with confidence, the ability to stay upbeat regardless of what she was feeling. A shy Misty was an abnormal Misty, and he wondered if their relationship shift was the cause somehow.

In the back of his mind, something finally clicked. She was treating him differently. And while he'd normally object to such a notion, he understood her motives. They were no longer just friends. They were something more. If he treated her like any of his other friends, he couldn't really say he thought of her as anything else. However, he _did_ think of her as something more, and thus appropriate measures and actions were needed. And if she knew as much as he did about actual relationships, then they were likely on the same page.

"Hey, Misty?"

She looked to him. "Yeah, Ash?"

Focusing with all his might, he smiled. It was the same confident smile he wore when he prepared himself for a battle, and he hoped the strength it gave him would help in this challenge. "Can I hold your hand?"

Her rosy cheeks, mixed with the light of the fire, painted her face a shade of beautiful. Slowly, a tiny grin begun to sprout, and behind it Ash could make out the confidence he liked about her. "Sure."

Holding back a grin that was a few shades too excited, Ash took her hand in his. This time, it wasn't shaking. As their fingers interlaced, Misty scooted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. It was small, but it was enough for them. Taking baby steps on the long journey ahead wouldn't be an issue. They had plenty of time to learn.

"I like you, Misty."

He could hear her smile. "I really like you too, Ash."

**xxxxx**

Three of my favorite fanfics of all time, in no particular order, are "Of Gentlemen and ShortShorts" by Maiden of the Moon, "Anything That Can Go Wrong" by Aiselne Phoenix Nocturnus, and "The Language of Mistynese" by Warlordess. Rereading these three is what prompted me to come finish and publish this. Am I done for real this time? Dunno. Not planning on writing more, but I guess we'll see what happens. Maybe I'll be randomly inspired again in the future. Hope you enjoyed it!


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